I warn you Generation X’er that stocks are vile lottery
tickets!
The hive beckons to lay wager at the seat of the incestuous mountain
top
Dog pile one onto one, until units become legions
Armies upon armies with elbows wiggling, knees gyrating for
position
The financial rigmarole has become incestuous as commerce
Has become of a common genial line with the arranged
marriages
Of brothers to sisters to mothers to sons,
There is no passable exit from this vomitorium!
Without the rancorous grasp of pedophilia and beguiling
courtship
To partake in the craven, wanton ritual of fantastical profiteering!
One must be superior inserting into the bowels of another
A wrenching thrust of conquest that one canine has asserted
his dominance
In the wasteland apocalyptica, pennies are added to share
price
For the exchange of excrement oozing down the crevasse
Cold barren and icy, the glacier of frost preserving our
planet is melting!
The accumulation of wealth into the stomachs of the Great
Danes
Is billowing the furnace of consolidation into a monotonous opera
Of single note Valkyries humming Wagner’s nightmares
In a low banal cream of normality straight-lipped and
hypnotic
The basement is full of General Videla’s Argentine auction
Of the progeny of raped private prisoners funded by
ambivalence
The horror masquerades as doing business
So in, we vote with our dollars, our purchases and our
outcasts
Those who we banish for daring to lay claim to reason or
science
Or any of the grand threats to the fanatical tyrannies of
the exchange or the altar
When you vote only buy their debts due prior to 2020, tax
them back every opportunity
For to barter their equity is to join ranks, be their despot
claim holder
Pull rank over vile contracts of the lottery, do not hand
them a discounted loan
For a promise they will never dare fulfill in your lifetime
For the calling time is coming in less than a decade from
now
The equity of the Western world will be gobbled by two primary
groups
In a power shift to change the century to come
As the Boomers retire and forced to sell their shares to
live
The rising middle-class masses of South America, Asia, and
Africa and
The Generation Xers of North America, Australia and Europe
will unite!
The crucible of the dollar will be at the turn of the tide,
the moon high
The crag jagged for the climb up-ended into a domino dissension
Into the madness of recompense, the troth of the unending
CAFO lot
Will be spilt for the pilferers to syphon among the feces of
the dying
Being herded off to the slaughter house
And in the combustion of the commotion is a bellowing cry of
Sell! Sell! Sell! The medicine is due, the sickly, the
deranged mummies of Medicare
Are calling for an allotment of Wal-Mart and GMAC to sack
the dog pile
For the consequences of the present come due!
Who was once stepped on must be ready to rise
So if you buy in now and hold you only change your mask
As all the great century profiteers of history, if you are
to make assumptions
Make this, the mountain is set to explode by 2020, the quake
in 2008
Will be but a tremor, a pre shake to the S&P500’s expiration
date
For the wrinkled to be pruned in a sun bath of endowed
marriage
To a lich of historical despair,
Woody Guthrie turned mute will cry out to the boxcar men and
women
Approaching nursing homes and this nation invested outside
the
Digital and biotechnologies to address this foul fire-sale
Will perish in an excoriating rebuke to the foundation
Of such kingdoms of assurances that, what was purchased will
be in ascent,
When I beg nostrils to be dilated to detect the rank of
statistical probabilities
Approaching like the call of a bartender shelving the ale!
Be not started as the drunkards stubble to the street!
Be alert and conscious to pick their pockets, as they have
pilfered yours
In the debts our nation has accumulated to assure your inheritance
was dispensed
In the very coffers we seek to reclaim!
Foundations of economy are stolen in such regard
It is the unspoken evils of decade upon decade
That one’s destitution is another’s prosperity
How else could such mountains be built?
Oh, such pandemic ruin; there is no glee in the opulence of
greed
Teetering on pilings of pandemonium, the witching hour is
whispering!
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